A picture is worth a thousand words

I thought of this on my morning commute.

We had a light rain last night but the sun was out this morning. While it was a cool morning, it’s still mild for November in New England so I was comfortable in only a light jacket.

I opened my car window as I drove into the office around 7. The air smelled thick with freshly fallen leaves, and there was a heavy dew rising- creating a mystic fog. The ground was littered with these brightly colored fallen leaves but the trees still clung to many of them, their color made more vibrant by the low morning sun.

I passed my friends, the cows. They stood together at the crest of a hill, their breath coming in big puffs of cool morning air, the sun behind them… a bovine silhouette.

Closer to my office complex there is a small town green I drive through each day with requisite churches ubiquitous here in New England. It’s a lovely green, typical of the area, though my daily passage has made me numb to its quaintness. Today tho, the sun was positioned perfectly behind a comely white church – making its long stained glass windows glow as if from within.

Right then, I wished I had my camera - noting that I should probably toss it in my backpack when I got home.

But as I thought more about the picture I would take, I dismissed the idea of a photo. I am certain that, with the light and the mist and the amazing fall foliage, I could capture a fantastic image. But what I was feeling tactilely and emotionally was not going to translate to pixels.

A picture is a great way for me to show you the wood bin I built, or a snapshot of our kids, or perhaps my new car.
But sometimes a handful of words are worth a thousand pictures, and sometimes only the memory….